


about to go our separate ways (i almost wave you back)

by gayclubanthem



Series: do you wanna be my sidekick? [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Shy!Liam, greasemonkey!niall, i'm a slow writer ok, it's important to me that you know liam is shy, oh i almost forgot, this has also been a long time coming sorry guys, this is one big fat excuse to write cheeky harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-02
Updated: 2016-04-02
Packaged: 2018-05-26 08:02:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6230563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayclubanthem/pseuds/gayclubanthem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"D’you suppose we could get together again?"</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Harry’s voice is quiet and inviting, but his face remains open and calm.  It eases the shake in Niall’s fingers, the way Harry can offer up himself without adding too much pressure.  Niall lifts his shoulders for a brief moment, lips curled around the filter of the cigarette as if he’s actually weighing his options. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>“That could be arranged,” he offers on the exhale, hoping he sounds casual.  “When are you available?” </i>
</p><p>second installment of the sidekick series in which niall is absolutely, 100% <i>not</i> a fanboy and louis is kind of an asshole.</p>
            </blockquote>





	about to go our separate ways (i almost wave you back)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AlwaysCourage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlwaysCourage/gifts).



> it's been like seven months i'm so sorry jenny but also ha i betcha didn't think i was actually ever gonna post this
> 
> thank you to [ducky](http://harrehsbun.tumblr.com) for being my cheerleader and reading this over like twenty times because i wrote most of this while under the influence and i couldn't be sure any of it actually made any sense at all
> 
> sidenote this isn't brit picked and i'm that one american that went to england for a week and considers herself pretty ok with lingo so sorry for any inaccuracies
> 
> enjoy :)

Harry Styles is a lot of things. Dreamy, for one. Kind, silly, ridiculous, _charming_. But most of all, Niall has come to find that Harry Styles is nothing if not persistent. In Harry's defense, it’s like Niall wasn't warned. 

"If I ever start, you know, like, actually bothering you... please tell me," Harry had said as Niall programmed his number into Harry's (really, really expensive looking) phone. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable or anything, but I still think we'd have a good time on, like, a date."

And there was that word again. Date. The word sent a quiver through Niall's chest because sure, he's had a shameless crush on Harry for close to three years, but Niall had always prided himself on being able to separate his fantasies and reality. He could joke to his friends about wanting to snog Harry breathless because it always earned him a fond eye roll, or he could wank off to the thought of Harry's thighs crushing his head because it's been too long since he's managed a pull, but it was all silly stuff, interviews to be excited about and a talented voice to hum along to while he did Mr. Carson's annual oil change. And then Harry had quite literally stumbled into the little bubble of a life Niall had managed to create for himself asking for motorcycle advice and a date.

Which is really messing up his brain if he's being honest.

After sending Harry on his way with a wave and a smile and a promise not to tell everyone on twitter about the nature of his motorcycle troubles, Niall pointedly ignores Paul and his stupid smug grin.

"So when's the wedding?" he jokes, nudging Niall with a massive shoulder that nearly sends him toppling. 

"Where are we with the starter?" Niall asks. Paul fixes him with a fond grin but doesn't push, instead ducking into the driver's side of the Pontiac and popping the hood. 

Niall sighs and gets to work, but not before putting earbuds in and setting his phone to play a shuffle of One Direction's recent album. The sound of Harry's voice in the chorus of the first song turns Niall's chest into a quivering mess. Christ. At least with his work to distract him, Niall could sort through his thoughts. So. He'd met Harry Styles. That happened. Maybe Harry would get home or to his hotel or wherever ridiculously posh place he's staying at and forget about Niall. The thought is equal parts comforting and disappointing to Niall. If anything, Harry might pull up his number while playing Call or Delete with Nick Grimshaw in a few months and he'll realize he hasn't got the foggiest idea who "Niall" is and prank call him for a few (million) laughs on the Breakfast Show.

Yet, when he finishes with his last car of the day and washes his hands of as much grease as he can manage, he pulls out his phone to see three texts from an unknown number. 

_hiya! thanks again for helping with zayn jr. feel like a proper knob haha._

_um this is harry by the way._

_styles. sorry you probably figured that out sorry._

Niall can't stop the fond smile from curving at the corners of his mouth. He starts to reply, but before he can find the words, his phone is buzzing in his hand as Harry sends yet another text. 

_and zayn jr is the bike, dunno if i mentioned that earlier_

Before Harry can send another message, Niall responds. He usually hates texting new people, always unsure as to how he's supposed to type. Are they okay with all lowercase? How much punctuation is too much? Should he add a smiley face so they don't think he's being too serious? With Harry, though, Niall feels a bit less self conscious. Less pressure when you're texting someone you never thought you'd meet, right? Right. 

**don't think you did mention but i dig it. very fitting.**

_i'll be honest i wasn't sure if you'd text back. but now that you're paying attention, real zayn just told me we're having a lads night out and i wanted to know if you wanted to join? you can bring someone if you'd like._

In all honesty, Niall nearly drops his phone. Harry wastes no time. He must be making some kind of fish face at the phone, because Liam hip checks him on his way out the door, keys jingling from his grip.

"Nialler, come on," he says, nodding his head towards the door. Niall nods, still mostly focused on the open conversation on his phone. Liam gives him a confused glance as he locks up behind them, grabbing his elbow before he can walk any further into the parking lot. "Alright?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Uh, yeah," Niall mindlessly replies before tapping his darkening screen to light it up again. Before he can second guess himself (you only live once right? And when is he ever going to get another opportunity like this again?), he claps a hand over Liam's shoulder, startling him. "Hey... you wanna hang out with One Direction tonight?"

\- - - - -

 

Harry texts Niall the address of a pub around 8 o'clock, giving Niall a few hours to get ready and mentally prepare himself for spending a night out with One fucking Direction. He doesn't _feel_ like he's putting more effort into his appearance than normal, but by half nine, Niall realizes he's gone through his entire wardrobe four times over in attempts to find a shirt not smudged with black or without at least a few small holes from the sketchy Laundromat down the street. Running his hands through his hair, Niall reminds himself that he doesn't need to impress Harry Styles. At most, Harry is a bored popstar, setting his sights on a mildly adorable Irishman to help him bide his time until he's flying back home to rehearse for the next tour and get on with his life. Still, Niall pulls out his phone and pulls up Liam's contact.

**mate, please tell me you've got a decent shirt i can borrow.**

If Liam thinks Niall's being ridiculous, he doesn't say so. Instead, he sends Niall a slew of pictures of some shirts in a variety of colors and styles with a series of question marks at the end. This is why they're best mates. Liam shows up ten minutes later with a clean red polo that fits a little loosely through Niall's shoulders but looks to be in better shape than anything Niall owns. They share a bottle of beer as Niall fixes his hair into an artful mess that Liam promptly ruffles into ruins before they take Liam's car through the outskirts of Los Angeles to the pub residing a few blocks away from the shopping district.

Niall doesn't know what he's expecting but it's not the tastefully simple glass door that gives way to a dim, but clean bar. There are flat screen televisions everywhere, the polished cement floor filled with tables and fancy red chairs with curved backs that match the stools set along the shiny black bar surface. In one corner, at a booth big enough for six, Harry sits alone with his back pushed against a brick wall, phone in hand.

Niall leads Liam to the booth, wondering briefly if he's gonna be able to afford more than two drinks at a place like this. 

"Looking a bit lonely, Styles," Niall announces as he slides into the opposite corner seat from Harry. Liam sinks in beside him wearing a polite smile and looking more meek than Niall knows him to be. Harry's face lights up as he locks his phone and manages to shove it into his back pocket. Niall spares a moment to wonder where Harry manages to fit his willy in jeans so tight.

"You made it! I'm so glad. It's nice to see you two," and it should sound forced and rehearsed, but Niall's starting to see why every director and producer and television host has gone out of their way to say nice things about Harry and his genuine friendliness. And if Niall feels Harry's green gaze hover over him for a moment longer than it lingers on Liam, so be it.

"Of course," Liam says, "Not like it's every day you get invited to drinks with someone famous. Besides, you seemed like good company to me."

"I do try," Harry laughs, "And the other boys should be here soon. I ordered a round of pints for us all, if that's alright?"

"More than alright," Niall answers, "In fact, you may be my favorite human ever at the moment."

Harry sends Niall a bright grin, a cheeky glint sparkling in his eyes. 

"Is that so?" he asks as a waitress comes by, five dark beers cradled carefully in her arms. Harry immediately rushes to her aid, pulling a few drinks from her grasp with stupidly large hands. He thanks her before she's rushing off to the next table. He passes a drink to each boy and holds up his own.

"To being Niall's favorite," he offers. Niall feels a strong flush decorating his cheeks before he can stop it, Liam nudging his shoulder as he holds his pint up and urges him to do the same. 

"To being Niall's second favorite!" Liam cheers. With a roll of his eyes and fluttery insides, Niall raises his own glass.

"To free beer!"

Harry lets out a loud laugh that causes a few heads to turn. A few other patrons raise their drinks towards them wearing knowing grins, and honestly, they all probably recognize Harry. Luckily, everyone is minding their own business, are probably required to at a posh place like this. Niall finds himself thankful for the privacy as they all clink their glasses, a bit of sticky beer spilling over Harry's knuckles. When Niall takes the first sip, he realizes almost immediately Harry ordered them Guinness. Did Harry get the most Irish beer known to man in attempts to impress Niall? Or maybe it's his own favorite drink. It's not what Niall would have pegged as a 'Harry' drink, but then again, Niall doesn't really _know_ him. Either way, Niall isn't ashamed to admit he's a predictable Irishman. He smiles into the foamy rim, wondering if he might be overthinking things. It's a goddamn pint, not a marriage proposal. Definitely overthinking.

Harry manages to down half his glass before sputtering and slamming the drink back on the table, making it rattle. He makes an adorable face, nose scrunched up and eyebrows pinched tight together. His pout only deepens as two other lads, Zayn and Louis, unceremoniously push him aside to slide into the booth seat. 

"Wicked, first two rounds on Harold!" Louis shouts, and this time when the other patrons look up they look mildly less charmed. 

"Who's this?" Zayn asks, pulling his glass close to himself as Louis makes to take it for himself. 

"Niall and Liam," Harry proudly announces, gesturing to them. "These lovely lads saved my life while you arseholes made bets at my own expense."

Louis sizes them up, the corner of his mouth tilted up. Zayn shrugs and takes a hearty sip of his drink. Liam looks hot under the collar with flushed cheeks and his hands clenched around his glass, Louis' sharp gaze striking through the poor boy until he's subtly leaning into Niall's arm.

"Nice to meet you," Niall decides to offer, holding his glass up for a moment. Louis quirks an eyebrow, and Niall can't really decide if he looks impressed or offended. 

"You're more Irish than I thought you'd be," Louis offers, not unkindly. So, impressed maybe. Niall sends him a smile and nudges Liam, who's quietly gazing at the edge of the table. 

"I am pretty fecking Irish," Niall laughs, "Even got me a proper pint of Guinness. Cheers, Harry."

"What're you doing in LA, then?" Zayn asks. Niall shrugs and turns to Liam, who's gone still in his seat, his fluttering eyelashes giving away how nervous he must be. 

"You tell 'em Leemo," Niall tries, quirking an eyebrow at his friend, "Followed him here, really."

"Uh," Liam manages, and Jesus, if Niall had known what a nervous wreck the poor boy would be he would have given him a proper pep talk on the car ride over. "Well, I mean, we met in uni and when my great uncle passed he left my family the shop, which-- I mean, I knew stuff about cars and learning to fix up American cars was easy enough so... well, I just figured might as well try out California, y'know?"

"It's a shop full of foreigners, I felt right at home," Harry tells the table with a content smile gracing his features, dimples settling into his cheeks. 

"Guess something good came out of H being a fuck," Louis announces, sloshing back the rest of his pint and motioning the waitress for another for the table while Harry shoots him a grumpy pout. Liam takes the queue to drain his own drink, cheeks flushed and shoulders hunched. What is his _deal_? Niall nudges his shoulder but only gets a sheepish shrug in response. Whatever. 'S not like Liam's the one who should even be freaking out at the moment. Niall's the one sitting face to face with the man who inspired some of his best orgasms.

"Where are you guys from, anyway?" Zayn questions, and now that Niall's paying attention, he and Liam are making a bit more eye contact than what might be considered socially acceptable for first time meetings. Huh.

Liam goes to answer for them both, words a bit stuttered. He's got a shy grin creeping up on his lips, Zayn's eyes watching him as if they're having the most interesting conversation he's ever had. Niall rolls his eyes and turns his attention to Louis and Harry who are currently slapping hands at each other. Harry's got that little line between his brows and a pout too wide for his face, but it looks stupidly endearing, Louis wearing his signature wolfish grin.

"Lou," Harry starts, but Louis must kick him under the table because Harry let's out a (comical, if Niall's being honest) yelp. " _Louis!_ "

"Piss off, Styles," Louis grumbles. "I can't just watch him do that thing he does with his face, it's gross. I gotta say something."

"Say what?" Niall interrupts, licking foam from his upper lip. Harry opens his mouth to reply, but Louis beats him to it.

"Zayn's got a hard on for your boy, Liam," he announces proudly. Niall chokes a bit on his drink but can't help but chuckle. He sneaks a glance at Zayn and honesty, Louis has a point. There are stars shining in Zayn's gaze, the hard angles of his face melting away as he lets out a laugh at something Liam must have said.

"Sweet. Been a while since Liam's had anyone to give him attention," Niall says and Harry shoots him a look that screams "don't encourage him" but the damage has already been done. Louis' face lights up like he's just gotten the best birthday gift ever. Harry reaches over to Louis, grabbing at him, but it only makes Liam and Zayn glance over.

"What's wrong with you two, then?" Zayn questions, eyes narrowed into annoyed slits. Liams' got his confused puppy face on, and in all the years Niall has known him, that particular look never fully receded into his masculine features.

"I was just pointing out to Harry that Liam is like, exactly you're type. Like, big arms and bigger heart? Just thought it was, y'know, interesting," and then Louis shrugs, a corner of his mouth quirked and his eyebrows high on his forehead. Niall doesn't buy it for a moment; in the half hour that he's officially known Louis, he hasn't exactly been aloof.

Harry shoves at Louis' shoulder, spilling a bit of beer on the table, but Niall's too busy cackling to really care. Zayn's gone from irritated to pissed and embarrassed (which doesn't suit him, Niall thinks, but it's also a bit hilarious), while Liam's face has reached new levels of crimson. He coughs into his fist and hides behind his still mostly full glass. 

"You wanker," Zayn finally grumbles, "Keep your thoughts to yourself, Tommo. Anyway, Liam, I've got, like, all the Marvel movies on bluray and they're all organized and everything. We can start with Iron Man and work our way through."

"Hold on," Harry interrupts, "You can't plan a movie marathon without us."

"I definitely think I can," Zayn argues. "You guys are the worst to watch movies with, you talk over the best parts."

"Oi! I'll have you know I'm a right saint," Niall says, holding a hand to his chest defensively. In all honesty, he's really not. Liam is constantly yelling at him to stop screaming 'Mic Drop!' every time Black Widow says anything and to pick up the mess of popcorn he's made on the floor. 

"You're really not," Liam confirms, "But, I dunno, maybe movie night would be nice? Like, I don't know how long you guys are here for but I wouldn't mind hanging out with you lot again."

Zayn looks mildly put out for all of a second before he sends a warm smile Liam's way. 

"You're right, it'd be nice. It's hard for us to make friends outside of the industry," he says. A waitress stops by with a new tray of overflowing beers, passing them around and Niall takes the opportunity to raise his own.

"Movie night?" he offers, and Harry catches his gaze, a question lingering between them. Niall feels his chest fill with air, and he's certain about one thing only. The night is far from over, but the connection between the five lads is easy, it makes sense. He doesn't want to lose it quite yet, doesn't want to let go of the attention Harry is paying to him, doesn't want to miss the way Liam and Zayn are looking at each other with bright eyes and excited grins, doesn't want to give up joking around with Louis and having more fun than he can remember having since moving to America. Niall lifts his shoulder and tries to tell Harry through his expression that he's not saying no, but he's not saying yes, and does that make any sense?

It must, because Harry nods, raising a glass for the second time.

"Movie night," he agrees, and the five of them toast, Guinness sloshing over their fingers.

\-----

 

Harry doesn’t necessarily _corner_ Niall when they leave, but well, he sort of does. Corner him, that is. The five of them are happily tipsy with four or so beers each settling warmly in their limbs. Smiles and laughter follow them as they all make their way through the glass doors and onto the sidewalk, lit brightly with streetlights and the headlights of passing cars. It’s there that Niall leans back against the brick wall, one of Louis’ cigarettes tucked between his teeth, and it’s there that Harry places one hand beside Niall’s head, body ducking over Niall and blocking his view of the other three boys. If it were anyone else, Niall might be mildly uncomfortable, but Harry gives him a goofy grin and really, how is he supposed to be anything less than charmed?

“Didn’t know you smoked,” Harry says, a little furrow between his brow, but he doesn’t look too serious. Niall shrugs and takes a small drag, blowing smoke to the side.

“Don’t really,” and he’s not lying. He knows he’s lucky to never have picked up the habit full time, but when someone offers and the mood strikes, Niall has to admit he likes the feeling of sharp tobacco filling his lungs and the systematic flick of ash. 

“That’s what Lou said. I think the stress got to him though.”

“And you?” Niall asks. “I mean, I know Zayn does but…”

“Can’t, asthma,” Harry explains. “But it doesn’t bother me much, I guess. Makes you look a bit rougher around the edges.”

There’s a wicked gleam in Harry’s eyes that Niall isn’t sure what to do with, so he takes another drag and let’s the thick smoke curl from his lips, chin tilted up. Niall’s never considered himself any kind of bad boy, and he knows he hasn’t got a mysterious bone in his body, but maybe that’s why Harry likes it. Lowkey roleplay, or something. 

“So…” Niall offers when it’s clear Harry won’t stop staring at his lips. Niall’s chest fills with a nervous energy, tight from the half finished cigarette and the way Harry is focusing so much of his attention on him. 

“I hope you had fun. You and Liam, I mean.”

“I did. _We_ did. It’s good to get out every now and then.”

“We don’t leave for another two weeks. D’you suppose we could get together again? I’d really like to get to know you. And Liam. I am _very_ interested in taking you up on those movie nights.”

Harry’s voice is quiet and inviting, but his face remains open and calm. It eases the shake in Niall’s fingers, the way Harry can offer up himself without adding too much pressure. Niall lifts his shoulders for a brief moment, lips curled around the filter of the cigarette as if he’s actually weighing his options. 

“That could be arranged,” he offers on the exhale, hoping he sounds casual. “When are you available?” 

A slow and pleased smile spreads across Harry’s lips. “The best part of being on break is having a significant lack of responsibilities. I’m all yours.”

The words sink into Niall gradually, his head buzzing from the nicotine. He likes the way that sounds, _I’m all yours_. Before he can get dizzy, Niall breaks eye contact and focuses on putting the cigarette out against the brick beside him without burning his fingers. When he’s finished he stares determinedly at Harry’s shoulder.

“Tomorrow night too soon?” Niall forces himself to ask. His thumb is twitching over the filter while his foot taps against the side of the building. Half of him wants Harry to stand back and give him a little breathing room, but he also kind of wants to know what would happen if Harry were to step closer. He can almost picture it perfectly, Harry leaning in, pressing his torso into Niall’s and tilting his head just a few inches closer, enough to be a clear invitation. 

Niall loses himself a bit in the fantasy, long enough that it takes him a few beats too long to realize Harry hasn’t answered. When he focuses his eyes on Harry’s face, he finds Harry watching him carefully. 

“You seem uncomfortable,” Harry says, “I don’t want to pressure you.”

Niall holds Harry’s gaze, a bubbly wave of alcohol hitting him. As much as Niall would love a little one on one time with Harry, the idea is dizzying. He feels faint enough as it is. Now would be his opportunity, but just as he opens his mouth to respond, the sound of Louis’ cackling and Liam’s shrieking distracts him. He breaks eye contact again in favor of glancing out at the other lads.

“Oh, fuck off, Tommo!” Zayn complains, shoving at the form of Louis draped dramatically over Liam’s back. Louis ignores him, wrapping his arms a little tighter around Liam’s neck. “Quit it, you’re being an arse.”

Harry steps out of Niall’s space, turning to face their friends. Niall reaches out and uses Harry’s arm as leverage to stand up straight. Harry lets him.

“Hey. Tomorrow night, Liam and I will be out of work around 5. Text us an address and we’ll be there at 6 for a lads movie night. I expect food and beer. _Good_ beer.”

“Deal,” Harry promises, face warm and happy, glowing under the golden street lights. They share a smile before Zayn’s stropping gets a bit too shouty to ignore. Harry wrestles Louis off of Liam’s back, apologizing profusely for “Louis’ complete lack of respect for people’s personal space” despite the genuine smile Liam’s got on his face. He’s laughing and straightening his shirt and he looks happy. 

Niall’s chest expands. He can hardly believe how well they all get on.

Louis and Zayn have called a car while Harry walks down the street to where the side parking lot holds his motorcycle and Liam’s car. When the car pulls up, black and sleek and just as intimidating as Niall had expected it to be, they part ways with friendly waves. Niall calls Harry’s name just as Liam unlocks the car. Harry looks up from where he’s straddling the motorcycle.

“Text me,” Niall instructs. Harry beams back at him.

**Author's Note:**

> nag me on tumblr [here](http://gayclubanthem.tumblr.com)


End file.
